With Cruel Intent (30 page)

department, is having second thoughts

about the timing of this transaction. In the

past week alone we’ve seen the number of

condominiums on the market skyrocket in

the properties adjacent to this particular

section of land. The group is concerned

that perhaps the area is already saturated

and our intent would be to put more

multiunit housing projects in place. We’ve

also noted a downward trend in the real

market values of the homes in that

particular area as well. This is a difficult

trend for us to navigate when considering

a purchase so very close to this unusual

local phenomenon.” Not allowing Ms.

Davis a chance to ask any questions, he

pressed on, “I’m sure you’re well aware

of the problems they’re having, which

seem to be escalating, and we realize it

could all well be over within a day or two

but there is the remote possibility that it

could be years. We are just not willing to

assume the risk, at least not at this time.

We are terribly sorry, we understand that

you’ve put a great deal of work into the

sale and our negotiations, but we are well

within our legal rights to withdraw our

offer, which is what we intend to do, in

writing, this morning.”

It felt, to Beverly, like someone

had just run a dagger through her heart,

chest pain, unable to breath, anxiety and

anger rising, “I thought, I mean, this is

coming out of left field. Just yesterday we

were on track and there were no

problems. Surely the little blip in condo

prices is not enough to pull out of such an

amazing opportunity. This is literally one

of two parcels of land that will ever be

available to develop in the Northern

Valdosta Region. The upside is huge! I

can’t

believe

you’re

considering

withdrawing your offer. Perhaps if we just

met this morning and addressed your

concerns we could....”

He cut her off, “Ms. Davis, unless

you can assure us that the serial predator

stalking the people and homes in that area

can be stopped before we sign on the

dotted line, it’s just not going to happen.”

“What are you talking about? You

mean that thing with the guy that did those

break-ins over the past couple weeks?

He’s harmless, a prankster, hasn’t hurt

anybody. The cops think it’s just a couple

of kids playing games. You are seriously

going to cancel a multimillion dollar deal

because of that?” she incredulously asked.

“Ms. Davis,” he said, in a stern,

attention getting voice, “Have you not seen

the news this morning or read the paper?

This guy is for real, no college prankster;

the police are issuing warnings for people

living in that entire region. It’s just more

than we wish to engage at this time. Our

lawyers will be in touch with your office

later this morning. Again, we are truly

sorry, but business is business. Good

day.”

She couldn’t believe what she’d

just heard, another nail in her financial

coffin. The sale of the property would

have meant hundreds of thousands of

dollars in fees she would have collected,

the largest sale of her career, now

squashed by some pervert getting his

jollies. “Shit, shit, shit,” she hammered

out with increasing volume, “Why now?”

She circled the table talking to herself, “I

can’t frickin’ believe this, not now, not

when we were so close. Now what the

hell am I going to do? I’ll never find

another buyer like Okala.” Her mind going

a hundred miles an hour, she tried to

focus. What had he said about the news,

what news? She switched on the local

broadcast.

A strikingly beautiful blonde in a

business suit, just cut low enough to entice

the male audience, sat upright behind a

large, expansive desk, computer monitor

to her right and a stack of papers in her

hands. She looked to be all business this

morning, no sweet, sheepish grin, no funny

banter with the co-anchor, just right to the

facts. “Again, the Sheriff’s Department, by

way of Sheriff Lupo himself, has issued a

strict warning to the people living in the

area south and west of the Air Force Base.

There is a very real threat, as they’ve

concluded a serial predator is working the

aforementioned area and every caution

should be taken to secure your safety and

the safety of your home and family.”

“What has happened?” she thought.

“Come on, tell us what the hell has

happened since yesterday!” Bev screamed

at the television.

As if the female anchor had heard

her, she continued, “Let’s recap that story

again for those just joining us. Last night a

house on Lori Street was broken into

while the owners were out. The home

appeared to be ransacked in a search for

valuables and the couple has identified

numerous

items

missing

from

the

premises. Based on evidence at the scene,

the authorities believe the couple returned

home while the perpetrator was still

inside.

Fortunately

there

was

no

confrontation, but significant damage was

done to the home and the department was

unable to release more details this

morning. They will be holding a press

conference later in the day to keep the

public apprised of the investigation,

however, they did specify that this latest

break in is a significant escalation in the

violent nature of the crimes to date. They

are asking the public to report suspicious

individuals or behavior, particularly in the

area we’ve been talking about. The

Sheriff’s Department has set up a hotline

that you can call and we’ll put that on the

screen for you momentarily.”

Beverly sat back in her chair

staring blankly at the woman on the

screen. She was lost for words. She had

worked her ass off the past ten years,

married a husband with a defective heart,

inherited a jackass of a stepson, gained

fifty pounds, given up every opportunity

for another man in her life, and for what?

To have it all pulled out from underneath

her by a little prick breaking into people’s

homes. “Damn it!” she yelled, sweeping

her arm across the table sending the now

empty coffee cup sailing through the air,

shattering on the kitchen wall.

* * *

Blanche casually swung back and

forth on the porch of Caroline’s B&B

enjoying the light early morning breeze as

it helped dry the droplets of perspiration

that were still forming on her skin. She’d

kept her promise to herself to get out and

run this morning, had been more difficult

than expected but still felt great to stretch

out and feel the sun on her back as she

maneuvered the sidewalks, for three

miles, that felt like ten. She had only been

enjoying the porch swing for a few

minutes before Mrs. Muir joined her.

“Room for two?” she asked.

“Sure, if you don’t mind sitting

next to me while I sweat like a pig,”

Blanche said, with a smirk.

“Beautiful morning, just love it

when there’s enough of a breeze to

dampen this stifling humidity. Too bad the

news this morning is such a downer,”

Mrs. Muir said, trying to read Blanche to

see if she’d heard the latest details.

“Yeah, it is beautiful this morning,

but what news are you talking about?”

Happy that she got to be the bearer

of the bad news, Mrs. Muir expounded,

“Well, you know what’s been happening

in those homes up by the base, right?” She

didn’t wait for Blanche to reply. “There

was another one last night and they almost

caught him. Was in the house when the

couple got home. The Sheriff isn’t saying

much but I phoned that friend of mine, you

know the one I was telling you about?

Anyway, she said, and she has very good

connections, don’t you know. Well, she

said that the home of Mrs. Criddle, the

lady with the fake leg and the mustang, she

said, there was some warning written on

her living room wall in pig blood. Can

you imagine?” she said, excitedly.

“I hadn’t heard that, are you sure?”

Blanche questioned.

“Oh, I’m sure, she’s very reliable.

Then last night, and don’t tell anybody,

cause this isn’t supposed to be out, but last

night he killed something with a butcher

knife and a carving fork, I think she said it

was a pig, then wrote another warning on

the wall. Is that creepy or what? Don’t

know what this world is coming to.”

Blanche, at this point, had stopped

the leisurely sway of the swing and

listened intently to what the older woman

was saying, knowing to take it for what it

was, as she considered the source. “Was

anybody hurt, do you know?” she said,

staring into the street ahead of her.

“Sounds like the pig didn’t fair

very well,” she replied

“Those poor people, must have

been such a shock to them when they got

home. What kind of a person does this

kind of stuff? It sounds to me like he’s

getting bolder with each outing.” She

nailed it without knowing.

“Lots of f....ing punks out there,

that’s for sure,” the older woman said,

followed by, “Excuse me dear, don’t

normally like to use that word but

sometimes I just get so riled up.” They

laughed as Blanche reached over and

patted Mrs. Muir on the knee, assuring her

it was understandable.

They started up the swing again,

swaying back and forth in silence, each

putting into perspective the information

they had just shared. A few minutes later,

Blanche noted a small truck motoring

down the street in front of the B&B, the

driver blasted out a recognizable greeting

with the horn and Blanche stood and

waved as Jasper sailed by.

* * *

“Alright people, hold it down,

quiet down. Quiet down!” the Sheriff

elevated his voice above the commotion

in the main level conference room. “Let’s

have it quiet so we can get started.” He

waited for the chairs to fill and order to

be restored to the adrenalin filled room.

“Thank you, I know we’ve all been up

long hours already,” he said, looking at

his watch, 1:00 p.m. “I’d like to start with

an overview of where we are with the

first two cases before we jump into the

one from this morning.”

“Arlene, I know you’ve been

compiling

and

coordinating

the

information as it’s come in, where do we

stand?” Sheriff Lupo directed his question

to the woman seated directly to his right

with laptop computer open, frantically

taking notes. Not accustom to having to

speak to such a large group of people, she

tried to ignore that anyone else was

present, and looked directly at her friend

‘The Wolf’ and spoke.

“I wish I could tell you that we

know more today than we did a few days

ago, but the truth of the matter is, we

don’t. The hotline has provided leads but

most resulting in dead ends or nut jobs

reporting their disgruntled neighbor as

The Stalker. We’re checking them as fast

as we can but no solid leads yet.” She

turned her attention momentarily to the

group around the table. “I just want to

thank ya’ll for your hard work and for

putting up with me calling at all hours of

the night. I appreciate your cooperation.”

She returned her remarks to the Sheriff,

“We were able to get a good casting of the

prints left in the backyard of the Criddle

woman’s home. Forensics should be able

to tell us more on that.”

“Ricky, you in here?” Sheriff Lupo